


feel you love, like a punch in the heart

by aphrodite_mine



Category: Saturday Night Live RPF
Genre: Behind the Scenes, Cheating, Community: femslash100, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-24
Updated: 2012-05-23
Packaged: 2017-11-05 22:07:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/411512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphrodite_mine/pseuds/aphrodite_mine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Series of unconnected drabbles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. over it, over and over again

They used to joke about this happening; a smooth transition from a massively popular sketch comedy show into television, into film. "You know," Tina had said, "because that happens so often for people like us."

And Amy had waited until the shaking subsided before coming up for air, her face shiny with sweat and _Tina_ and had rested her cheek on Tina's thigh and asked, "Clarify, please?"

"Oh, you know," Tina answered when her breath came back, "lady comedians."

"Funny females," Amy echoed, pressing a kiss and cool exhale against Tina's clit. 

"Those of the womanly persuasion," Tina smiled.

"Yeah."


	2. This goddamn room it gets so small sometimes

It's late, and you're both drunker than you should be. You should have been home hours ago, texting your husband and whispering _good night_ through the receiver into the air above your daughter's head. You should be home, you shouldn't be here.

But Amy leans into you and you stop breathing, just for a moment, just long enough for the blood to rush to your head. (You want her. That never stopped being a thing that's true.) She leans into you and you slide a hand across the rise of her hip, tugging her closer, whispering, "God, Amy, we can't."


	3. ruin me in one long night

The lids of her eyes are heavy, drifting closed and popping back open when she gasps and her eyes roll back and the lightning bolt cracking through her clit hisses through the rest of her body and back again. "Oh, god," Amy moans, gripping the arms of the chair so hard her knuckles turn white. 

The long, floral folds of her dress are caught across her lap, fluttering down to the floor, stretching with every arch over her swollen belly. 

"I thought we agreed that god wasn't involved," Tina says, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "God," she smiles, sitting back on her heels. "You look like a slut."

"Only for you," Amy says, feeling like she'll never catch her breath, leaving her dress arranged, her legs parted. "I'm easy."


End file.
